Looking through blue eyes
by BlackHeartedTigress
Summary: Collection of Malec one-shots. The themes vary; there will be love, anger, sadness and joy and it will be (mainly) from Alec's POV. Also, I have just begun a series of 'alphabet' chapters within this, beginning with Alec encountering his one of his greatest fears. Enjoy.
1. I bare my soul to you

**read this!**

**Okay, the inspiration for this was a video I watched recently- Hozier, Take me to church. Watch it; it is one of the most powerful things I have ever watched. ****I wept afterwards, cried for everyone who has been persecuted FOR LOVING. It just struck me how horrific it was that two people could not love openly without facing violence and judgement. **

**LOVE IS LOVE. Anyone who says otherwise is encouraging hatred. I don't care much for homophobia.**

**It so eloquently explains the unjustified hatred of society, and reflects the awful situation in Russia. This is written for them. And indeed everyone facing hardships and worries in their lives.**

I bare my soul to you

_Magnus_,

The clock ticks. It's the only thing that marks time for me now. The only thing that connects me to the real world.

_Tick Tock. _They'll come for me again. I know they will.

_Tick Tock. _I can only be glad of one thing; that you're not with me, that you're safe.

_Tick Tock. _I know it'll be hard for you. When you you ask my siblings where I am. I know you will grieve for me, but please, know this, love; I am happy. You brought so many days of life, of happiness, of love to me. You taught me the meaning of the word love. Before I met you, love was a selfish, manipulative thing choking me. But you set me free. You dragged the heavy chains off my body and replaced them with warm arms. You showed me love is unrestrained and unconditional, that when you love someone, you'll die for them. You loved me before I even knew I loved you.

I do not regret you. You alone have brought to me the happiest days of my life, and I would not give those days up to be free a little longer.

_Tick Tock. _I will remember our days together when they come back. When they tear and lash out at me, I will recall how soft your caresses were. When I see their faces full of raw, inexplicable hatred, I will think of your eyes, full with joy, laughter and adoration.

Adoration for me. I never believed someone would ever love me as you do. I'd seen couples in love, some so far that they didn't notice anyone outside of their little world, and I thought sadly that I'd never have that. No-one would ever look at me as something special or precious. No-one would ever want to kiss or touch me. But you did. You did.

_Tick Tock. _Take me back to that day. Please don't let me see their eyes full of judgement. I can't think of myself as 'unnatural, an aberration and inferior to everyone else', not when you look at me. But, love, when you're not here, I fear I'll begin to believe them. I fear that their words will tear through your protective shield. I live in terror that perhaps I shall stop listening to your beautiful, inspiring words, and ingest their noxious, jagged lies. When you're surrounding by nothing but falseness, how do you know what is the truth any more? I pray I do not succumb, love, I pray for us.

_Tick Tock. _My soul aches for you. You have no idea what I would give for one more day with you. I want to make love to you and wake up in that sleepy-perfectly-warm state, no cares, no worries, no fears. I want you to wake up, and smile when you see me gazing at you in amazement. The truth is, love, every time I wonder, how can I possibly have this man in my arms? Nothing on this earth is as beautiful as you are to me.

_Tick Tock. _I suppose this seems strange to you, doesn't it? To read my writing filled with such affection, and for me to use endearments. I should have given you more while I still could. I should have lived every day telling you how much I love you, calling you 'sweetheart, darling, love'. I held back, and I know the cost of that now. I should have dared to love you as fully as I could, no restrictions, no hiding. I never want to hide again, Magnus, not ever. I acted as if I was ashamed of our love, ashamed of you. Please know, it was never you. I was too afraid, too concerned over what the Clave would think, of what my parents would think. You should have come first, love. You offered me real, unconditional love and I refused you over and over again. Yet I found the courage to declare our love to the Shadow world. I did it because I did not want to lose you; you are so important to me.

_Tick Tock. _I think I can hear them coming, so there is only time for me to share one last memory with you.

You remember the day, don't you? The day I asked you to be my partner not only in battle, but in love. I kissed you, and I didn't care that hundreds of Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike watched. All I could feel was you; your body frozen with the shock of my very public declaration, the ghost of a smile as you realised I was done with the secrecy. The pride in your eyes as I drew back from you, that I was a coward no longer. That I had become comfortable with being_ me. _

Even as we went to fight, darling, I was smiling on the inside. I could have died then and been happy, for I knew that_ you knew_ I loved you. You still to this day have no idea how important that was to me. It became vital that you knew, I needed it like I need my heart to beat, my brain to think and my legs to walk. I needed you.

I felt it, you know. I felt your magic inside of me. It frothed and rolled and sparked. It was a fantastic and surreal feeling; powerful, dangerous and intoxicating. It would be so easy for you to let it overwhelm you, to let the magic control you, wouldn't it? You're always so in control though, and admire you for that. You're strong, far more so  
than I am. But that's okay; I'll be the the little boat in the storm, and you can be my anchor. You hold me steady, always by my side through the danger.

When that short but vicious battle ended, I searched frantically for you. I knew you were alive, I could still feel your energy inside of me, but you could be wounded, bleeding to death from a horrific wound. Oh, how the images flashed before my eyes, darling. My breaths were short, and heart thudding. I tried desperately to tell if the energy within me was fading. I remember almost sinking to the ground when I felt it was.

I called out your name, over and over, needing to find you.

"Alexander."

I heard your tired but triumphant voice, and spun to face you. My eyes quickly scrutinised you for injuries, and yes you had some deep cuts, but you were not dying.

"You're okay, you're okay," I murmured over and over as I fell into your embrace. "I felt the rune fading..."

"I as well," Magnus answered softly. "It was because the need for it was gone. The Mortal War is over. Valentine is dead."

I don't know how long we stayed there for, just holding each other. Probably longer than the actual battle lasted, but soon enough we began to stumble towards Alicante.

I saw my family and friends, and I was happy. But not as overwhelmingly so as when I saw your face. And of course, I still felt uneasy about how my parents would react to you- to you and I. Yet I had to be brave now; I'd made a public statement about how I felt about you, and it was impossible to refute that now.

Mom's pale blue clawed at the sense of security I'd felt while holding your hand. This was the moment, the one which would destroy me or give me the acceptance I was desperate for.

"Hi, Mom," I said, cursing my own awkwardness.

"Alexander," she replied, her eyebrows high. Her eyes moved past me though. " And Magnus Bane."

"Maryse," he acknowledged politely.

Silence descended for a second before I realised, _Oh, this is the point I explain the kiss. In front of the entire Clave. _

I took a tremulous breath, and you squeezed my hand gently. "I'm not sorry for what I did, not in the least. It was the single bravest thing I've done in my entire life, the single thing I feel truly proud of." I looked up at you, love, and felt and sense of right course through me. "I'm in love," I said softly. "And yes, he's hardly the most conventional person, hardly the person you imagined me standing beside as I told you I loved them. But I know that with him I'm happy in a way I've never been before, a way that gives me hope and inspiration and courage. And I know now I'm not prepared to lose him, not for anyone." I suddenly ran out of those eloquent words, but there was only the briefest of silences.

"Alexander." You whispered my name. Finally, the moment when you truly believed that I loved you without doubt. The moment when I didn't care if I was disowned and stripped of my marks, because even then, I would still have you...

_Tick Tock._ My time is up. You, and you alone know the secrets of my heart, and I ask that you don't take them to the grave. Let my family know that I was euphoric in my last days and that they can know I am at peace,

I give to you the only parts of me that are truly immortal, my love and my soul.

Until we meet again,

Alec.

**I nearly cried as I wrote this, so feel free to tell me how this makes you feel.**

**Also, just to confirm, Alec does die and you can imagine the people killing him are some kind of psychotic Nazi-like, emotionless, heartless, soulless, monstrous, cold-blooded, murdering bastards. **

**Basically anyone who thinks themselves superior to someone/ a group of people.**

_**Fin. **_


	2. Sleepy mornings

**Okay, this is a just a short snippet. **

_The bird waves at me once more before taking to the skies, calling out, "Raziel and Robin will be excited to hear of the news, but ultimately Batman is not going to be too fond of the idea."_

_I smile and wave back. What a crazy little bird. Obviously Batman would love the idea of a fleet of mermaids taking up residence in his shiny Bat-mobile. _

I sat up and blinked the sleep from my eyes. Raziel, I needed to stop reading those comics. My dreams were becoming more lurid and ridiculous by the night. Stretching my arms, I attempted to stand and get ready for the day ahead. Unfortunately, this was not very successful, mostly due to the fact that Magnus had a death-grip on me.

"Where do you think you're going?" he muttered sleepily.

"Magnus, not everyone has the time to lay about in bed all day. I have training to do."

"_Fuck_ training," Magnus said firmly, and tightened his hold, enough that my breaths were ever so slightly shorter. "Besides, I don't 'lay about in bed all day', everyday. Today's a Saturday. Saturday is part of a concept known as the 'weekend'."

I looked down at him. "Just because it's Saturday doesn't mean all life can just stop. Stuff still needs to be done."

"Mhhmmm... While that belief is certainly interesting, it's a little too radical for me. I mean, really, working on weekends? Isn't that the Eighth Deadly Sin?"

"No, but I do recall sloth being one of them."

"So is lust, but those gorgeous blue eyes were dark with it last night."

"That's last night. Today is Saturday. A new day, with yesterday completely forgotten." I did not particularly want to think of last night while trying to have a rational debate.

"Well, _Alexander_, you can be sure that I haven't forgotten a moment of it. Didn't it go just like this..." He stroked his slim fingers up my arm whilst grinning tantalisingly. I shivered from the sensation; Magnus had quickly introduced me to the idea that a touch didn't need to be sexual to be sensual.

"So working on Saturday mornings is the Eighth Deadly Sin, but sex is fine?" I queried.

"Who mentioned sex?" Magnus said, releasing his hold on me and slumping back against the pillows with his eyebrows raised.

"Well, unless my memory fails me, I'm pretty sure that's what happened last night."

"And correct me if I speak falsely," he mimicked," but I was only alluding to the first part of our... _eventful _evening. Do you honestly think I have the energy on a _Saturday morning_ to give an exact reconstruction of last night? I'm not the one with the stamina rune."

I sighed, slightly disappointed, but conceding his point. Our _eventful evening_ had been comprised of several hours of foreplay alone, and so it enough to still be feeling the after-affects today.

"_I'm _not the one with the stamina rune," he repeated lowly, with only a slight emphasis on the first word, making me wonder whether I'd really heard it at all. His eyes were half-closed and cast downwards, so I had absolutely no idea what he was thinking. I hated it when he left me in situations like this.

"What exactly are you insinuating?" I asked , but I could hear both a roughness and hope in my voice.

His eyes opened enough for my to see his cat-like pupils, and he watched my expression as he slowly trailed his hand from my knee to my inner thigh.

"Somehow, I don't think you're under any illusions about what I'm referring to," he murmured, almost reprovingly, as he pulled me over his body.

I shivered slightly at the sudden heat of his naked body beneath me, although quickly my hands moved to his chest, greedily absorbing the feeling of the hot, soft skin.

"Not any more," I breathed into his ear, whilst my fingers circled lower and lower.

He trembled with laughter first, and then later again, with pleasure.

I was now an official convert to the belief in sleepy Saturday mornings.

**You have no idea how much fun it was to write this. Or how much it turned me on imagining this scene... ;)**


	3. Hatred will not be your salvation

This is written for every person who has ever been told they're not good enough. That they are inferior. This is my rebellion, my defiance and my belief.

If you don't like it (as regards to** the subject**, not my writing. If you don't like my writing, fair enough), I don't really care. I **won't** hold up placards saying 'Anyone with a superiority complex will burn in Hell', because I don't think that. I am not perfect, so I may be angry at you; I truly abhor ACTS OF HATRED. I have no doubt in my mind they're wrong, and be honest, do you?

Do you condone making another person feel rejected by society? Does making another person cry bring you laughter? _Does breaking someone's spirit make you sleep easier at night?_

I didn't think so. (If yes, you are indeed a psychopath)

I'm also not going to state my sexual orientation or gender, as I feel that would be self-defeating. The very point of this is to stop stigmatising people based on their sexuality, and so I don't want to act as if being another orientation is shameful.

**Hatred will not be your salvation.**

_'Take the plank out of your own eye before trying to remove the speck in mine,' Jesus Christ (paraphrased.) _A good quote, whether you are atheist, Christian, Muslim, Jewish or from any other religion.

"You looked at him before. You saw a barely adult boy, someone still hovering on the point of leaving his childhood years behind. You saw black hair, you saw blue eyes, you saw pale skin. Perhaps there was intelligence and intuition in behind those eyes, you surmised. But he was a person to you, he had a soul.

You stare at him now. Your eyes cannot turn away as they see an adult, fully responsible for his crimes against nature, against you. You see a man, innocence and naivety long deserted. Farewell, goodbye, so long, _adieu_. You see a devil's hair, you see a demon's eyes, you see Satan's complexion. He has no soul, he is a monster, _he is evil in it's purest form. _

Cover your children's eyes, for he will poison the hearts and minds of all who see his lustful, degrading acts. It will traumatise them forever and they will grow up into a replica of this aberration before you. He is the Seven Deadly Sins incarnate, and he is trying to deceive you into seeing them as the Virtues instead.

How long has it been between that past where he is innocent and God's child, and that present in which he has been baptised by Lucifer? A sliver of time, one atom of a second in a universe of millennia. What was his crime? What turned him from good to evil in a mere few moments? What changed about _him_?

Nothing. Nothing at all. All that changed was you. You look at him in that second and see the darkness and the lies and the corruption pour out of him. Endless streams from eternal rivers from _infinite fucking rain_. But it's not coming from him, oh no. It's not him that lavishly paints that black aura. It's you. _It's you_. Those lies, they seep and ooze and crawl and creep from your gaping, hypocritical mouth. It pours like vomit, disease and illness from you until you cannot see past it.

YOU HAVE BLINDED YOURSELF! _You obscure your vision and your fragile mind CRUMBLES! _OUT POURS THE WORDS OF YOUR BLINDNESS: FAGGOT, ABOMBINATION , UNNATURAL!

Oh, yes, you would dare to call me unnatural as you stoop and lick your own tar-like vomit off the floor. You don't stop, you don't stop until you have gulped down every acidic, venomous drop, and you dare to call _me _ill? _I'm _the one who needs to be cured?

Where did I pick up this fatal contagion? Was it as I touched my mouth to his? When I decided I would not be oppressed into silence any longer? I kissed him because I knew it was time I stopped living my life in the secrecy of shadows. I wanted to break free of the weights tying me to the earth, and to soar. To let the love inside of me flourish and grow as it reached towards the light of the Sun. I did not want it to become a withered, sickly thing that had all but given up. I needed the man who loved me so unconditionally, who loved me without knowing I ever truly reciprocated for so long, to know _I loved him_.

I lived for years hating myself. I hated what I was just as much as you do now. I thought that I was a freak, someone who would be put on display for others to goad and taunt and mock. I thought I was a sinner by just existing. And it almost broke me. It almost convinced me that I had no right to live, no right to ask to be treated as everyone else, because I was not the same. _But what do us, humans, as a species always pride about ourselves? _OUR UNIQUENESS, OUR _DIFFERENCES_! So I stopped loathing myself and saw myself for what I am. I am a sinner. I am just another person in seven billion. But I am not cursed or damned or inferior, I am not worth less than anyone else. I am one in seven billion, but I am just as important as every last one of them.

Love is good. Love is natural and right and warm and happy. Except if it's my love for another man, apparently. My love, no matter how honest and faithful is not good enough for you. And I find that sad. But it is not me I feel pity for now, it is you. It is you who has been deafened and blinded and muted by hatred. It has possessed you, until the only words you can speak are toxic and cancerous.

Cover your children's eyes and ears and mouth. Don't let them inhale your noxious fumes, don't let them hear your white noise and _for God's sake_ don't let them see your bloody and vicious violence. For it will contaminate them, it will teach them to hate as you have. We must not let hatred triumph over love.

So now I will be defiant. When you call me those cruel derogatory names, I will laugh. It is not me you are hurting. When you wound me and draw blood from my body, I will be peaceful. It is not me those incisions and lacerations are killing. When you preach against me, I will pray for you. Love your enemies. Treat others as you'd like to be treats. Do not judge. I will find it in my heart to love you. I will look in my soul for acceptance. I will not judge you for your actions against me.

I ask you this, though: which of us is saved? Which of us is forgiven? I don't know the answer, and neither do you, but what we both know several things. It is better to spread light than to sow darkness. It is better to embrace than to asphyxiate. It is better to kiss than to bite. _It is better to love than to hate._"

**What else is there to say? **


	4. Blissfully Blind

Blissfully Blind

This is a place in which we need no colour. Life is no longer defined by the varying hues we perceive through means of sight. The eyes lie. They are shameless, too. So we say, firm as can be, "No thank you, not today," and we close them shut. The eyelashes bordering our deceptive eyes cage them, a fine but distinct mesh of fibres intertwining.

In this separate world we have wilfully created we rely on sound, on touch, on taste. Experimentally, you flick your tongue over the skin of my shoulder. I sigh appreciatively in response, angling my body towards yours.

A deep breath inhaled between my shoulder blades. Is my scent pleasing to you? You hum in assent. I tip my head back until it is nestled against you. I am motionless, but you are perceptive.

Even completely blind, you are still confident in pressing your mouth to mine. Your lips are hot and moist on mine, a mimic of the most intimate act two people can perform. You do not withhold yourself, no, you give me everything. There are no boundaries here.

The kiss does not last long enough to cause the glowing coal remnants of our fierce passion to flare up. You end it gently, placing a slender finger on my lips. Enough for now, you mean.

"I love you," you breathe, not for the first time tonight.

"_Je t'aime_," I reply sleepily. You use the arm still wrapped around me to hug me tighter for a brief moment.

"Rest now, _mon cherie_," you whisper. "Who knows what gifts and curses lie in wait for us tomorrow."

"I'd rather just think of now. After all, I can still feel the aftershocks of _la petite mort_."

You laugh, and I feel the reverberations down my spine. "_La petite mort?"_

"Mmm..." I murmur, "'The little death'. How else would you describe it?"

"Fair enough," You grip my waist and firmly pull me towards you until we are face-to-face.

I shift slightly, moving so my body covers yours. Supporting my weight on my elbows, I lean down to press my ear against your chest. I am happiest like this; when I can both hear and feel the steady metronome of your life.

Some people will say that when you know what a human heart actually looks like, it steals any romanticism from the idea. I disagree. The symbolism remains just as powerful with the knowledge, if not even more so.

You see, the heart is absolutely vital; it is necessary for our lives to go on. It begins in the 6th week of pregnancy and will only stop in death. Our heart is a thing that will be with us through our entire lives. It will beat through every moment; the laughter, the tears, the anger and the exhilaration. It is solid and dependable.

And yet even with its reliable and powerful contractions it is also surprisingly delicate. It does not take much more than a jolt of electricity to stop it in place, to freeze it forever. So many things we surround ourselves with could destroy our hearts. So many wires lying in wait to bite like enraged cobras, more than willing to deliver their deadly venom.

The heart, as it happens, does indeed play a role in love. My convictions of this had only been reaffirmed by loving you. It was the alarmingly loud pounding in my ears as I saw you smile at me, noticing me for the first time. It was the unsteady, out of control beat as I spoke to you, as I asked you out while my hands trembled in my lap. It was the silence when you kissed me for the first time, and every time after that. And, finally, it is the slow rhythm of peace as I lay in the arms of the man I love.

You move slightly beneath me, stirring me from my thoughts.

"What are you thinking?" you murmur.

I smile faintly, but I know you can feel the slightest movement of my lips. You wind your fingers into my hair, tugging gently. Demanding an answer. "I was thinking that despite what people say, there is a lot that is still romantic about the heart."

You snorted slightly. "Only you, Alec, would be thinking about something like that at this time of night."

"Are you calling me a weirdo?" I ask playfully.

"It is true I think you are extraordinarily peculiar, my love. But I've told you that already, haven't I?"

_["You're just . . ." A shadow moved behind Magnus; with fluid agility, the warlock twisted around and picked up a small gray and white tabby cat from the floor. The cat curled into the crook of his arm and looked at Alec with suspicion. Now two pairs of gold-green eyes were trained on him darkly. "Not what I expected."_

_"From a Shadowhunter?"_

_"From a Lightwood."]_

"I remember," I replied. That night is so vivid for me, even now. It marked the night that I first stepped out of my comfort zone, that Alexander Lightwood did something daring and unexpected and for himself. Even if I did spend half the time staring at my shoes.

"Mmm... I prefer to use the word 'unique' though. Softens the blow a little."

"I thought you didn't do charity. In any area of your life," I mimic you.

"I can make an exception for you," you say, stroking your hands up my arms, "On occasion."

"How kind of you," I reply, raising my head to graze my teeth against your neck in retribution.

"I always aim to please," you say, laughing again. You kiss me once more, a slow, soft kiss, and then murmur, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"'Night."

Our breathing slows and we both slip into dreams, where the images are so much more vivid and incredible than what we would see with our eyes open.

**Quote is taken from Cassandra Clare's website from an 'extra' called Kissed. The 'I don't do charity in any area of my life' is a Bane Chronicles reference :)**


	5. A for Aposematic

**Welcome to the beginning of my alphabet fic. I've seen a few of these before, and really wanted to try one, so here it is. I'm also going to attempt to teach you guys a few new words before the end of this, beginning with:**

A for Aposematic

_Aposematic (adj., Zoology): 1._ _coloured__ or constructed in a way that indicates special capabilities for defence._

_(Source: dictionary . reference . com )_

Alec's POV

It is not often one awakes to the stench of a putrefying corpse. It is as if someone has driven a thin dagger up my nostrils its intensity is so great, and my stomach lurches uncomfortably with sudden nausea. My hand is clamped firmly over my mouth as I stagger to the bathroom. A dribble of fluid escapes my lips, and I dart towards the toilet as I convulse. A gruesome grey liquid erupts from my mouth, a fountain of partially decomposed food. I retch repeatedly. My hands quickly become accustomed to the cool porcelain they are gripping.

"_Hellfire_," I mutter as I lean back, panting. My eyes water a little. Belatedly, it occurs to me that during my ordeal I had heard nothing but the sound of my own vomiting. I wipe my mouth with a sheet of toilet paper, discard it, and flush it away with the previous contents of my stomach. I listen again for any sign of life. Nothing.

Frowning, I wander back to the bedroom. My eyes widen as they see the bloodstain on the large bed. Had we been attacked in the night? Why didn't I remember any of it? And where the _fucking hell_ is that smell coming from?

My heart stops a moment as a possibility crosses my mind, before logic kicks in. Someone who was killed last night wouldn't have begun to rot yet...

Even still, a faint, "Magnus?" leaves my throat. It is barely audible to my own ears. Fear and frustration taunt my self-control, throwing it languidly back and forth between them like a ball.

"Magnus?" I try again, but my volume does not exceed that of a whisper. My voice is of someone who had shouted themselves hoarse. Fear is in strong possession of the ball of self-control.

Water. Water is what I need, I decide. And surely Magnus can't be that far. In fact, he is probably just feeding Chairman Meow or something, and this whole thing is a huge misunderstanding. It isn't as if either of us are unused to abnormality, with him being a warlock and I a Shadowhunter.

With this in mind, I open the door of the bedroom with confidence. And then slammed it shut. I've gone insane. No, Magnus has gone insane. One of the two of us must be insane. Or I'm dreaming.

No. The image was far too vivid to be merely a figment of my imagination; my boyfriend's apartment now resembled the Amazon Rainforest. I hit my head lightly against the door several times, feeling it reverberate. This cannot be happening.

_This is what you get for dating a warlock, _I thought gloomily. Reluctantly, I prepared to face the jungle. I just needed to keep in mind that the actual dimensions of the flat hadn't changed. Everything would be the same, except for a few more plants. I did hope that he hadn't conjured up any of the fauna; who knew how many different spiders there were in a rainforest?

I let the door open a sliver. Immediately, I located the source of the repugnant smell: a carrion flower, of the species _Raffesia kerrii. _It was an ugly orange-red flower, and the purpose of the revolting smell was so that it could be pollinated by flies that were attracted to it. They were mainly found in the rainforests of Thailand and Malaysia.

My safety in my own knowledge soothed my nerves; most things weren't scary when you knew a 101 facts about them.

Carefully, I brushed a curling vine out of the way, and stepped into the forest. The humidity was stifling. It appeared that Magnus had wanted to create the most realistic rainforest possible. I cursed him silently. It wasn't only the humidity I noticed. All around me I could hear life: the calls of howler lemurs, the clicking of insects and cries of birds. The raucous noises of a huge density of life from rainforests around the world.

After walking (wading) for a few minutes, a realisation settled upon me. It would not have taken this many strides to cross Magnus' apartment. I really was in a massive rainforest, with no-one around for miles, full of who knows how many deadly creatures. I sank to my knees, my head in my hands.

I had been transported to some parallel universe, I decided. The laws of physics were only optional guidelines here; this world didn't have to obey them. Moments later, I felt the cool moistness of rain fall upon my skin. Because of course, what were rainforests known for?

Groaning, I stood up again and headed out to look for shelter. All I needed was to find a denser canopy of trees, which shouldn't be all that difficult, considering my location. The raindrops falling were soon rapid and full, each a stone against my skin. Grimacing, I threw myself flat against the trunk of the nearest tree, hoping the rain would not be as painful here. My hair was plastered against my head, but at least I was not cold.

I closed my eyes until the pounding of the rain was reduced to a lighter spray, only a pattering to be heard now. Opening my eyes, I encountered a strange thing; the leaves in lower forest plants looked as if they had been painted gold. Once my eyes focused, I realised instead that I was surrounded by thousands of tiny yellow frogs. I tilted my head back to take in the full number, and my head impacted against a smooth surface. Too smooth for a tree.

I turned curiously, and gasped with relief as I saw a metal inscription plate. Humans had been here recently; I was not alone. My relief faded quickly as I read the writing:

_Phyllobates terribilis:_

_Golden Poison Frog_

_Warning: Extremely poisonous; one milligram of its poison will kill 10-20 humans i.e. Do not touch the frogs._

Below, in Magnus' writing, were the words: _Poisonous, but not venomous. Poison is a defence mechanism only. P. Terribilis will not attack._

It struck me that these frogs were not here by accident but by design. Magnus, and any warlock I'm sure, would want the toxins for various spells and concoction. But I was not meant to be here, I thought, as I eyed the pulsating throats of the golden frogs surrounding me. Then again, why had Magnus chosen to restock on poison on a day I was in his home? Surely it could have waited?

Fortunately for me, escaping the little frogs without death would not be a problem; the sign clearly stated they had no intention of attacking. So, carefully, I picked a path through the layers of glistening bodies, wincing as they leapt out of my way. It was a good thing I was wearing jeans that stretched right over the tops of my shoes. Even if I couldn't remember where the greenish stain on them came from.

I was free of them in a fraction of a nerve-wracking minute, and I strode away quickly. Only to hit into what felt like a brick wall. I stumbled backwards. Looking up in surprise, I saw a pale-blue, flickering wall. The forest was not as massive as I'd previously assumed. There were clear boundaries, and the only thing I need to do to get out of here was to follow the wall.

The forest was considerably thinner nearer the wall, and so I made quick time as I walked.

A slim glass door stood in front of me, right in the middle of the leafy trees, looking impossibly out of place. But it was the exit of this sweaty little piece of Hell, I knew it.

I seized the metal handle- which was disconcertingly cold- pulled it open and entered. I did not pause, and it turned out to be my greatest mistake so far.

Flourishing letters were scrawled across the far wall:

**WELCOME TO THE ARACHNID ATRIUM!**

(Abandon hope all ye who enter, arachnophobes...)

The room was bright white, with two lab benches, glassware scattered upon them. An empty doorway led to another room, exactly identical to this one, and beyond it I could another, and another, and another... It was like that phenomenon when you looked into two opposite mirrors, and saw multiple versions of yourself, each a little further away.

This in itself would not have been too anxiety-provoking. What worried me more was that every surface was pulsating with various kinds of spider.

I spun around, grappling for the handle of the door back to the rainforest, (which now looked like some exotic form of heaven; oh, the lessons of perspective) but it was non-existent. As if time and space had devoured it. I was trapped. In a room full of spiders.

I physically felt the blood leave my face as I contemplated my predicament. I was enclosed in a room with one of my worst fears.

"_Raziel_," I whispered. A single tear slipped down my cheeks…

My fear of spiders was not a shallow phobia; it was deep-rooted in my childhood. A _Tsuchigumo _demon, to be precise. It was a creature straight from Japanese legend, supposedly a spider that was able to masquerade as a young boy in order to deceive its victims. I, as a Shadowhunter, was supposed to play the role Minamoto; to see through the trick and slay the demon.

The demon resembled a swollen, out-of-proportion tarantula. It had reared up in front of me. The abruptness of the movement had caused me to panic. All but my arms froze. I reverted to the human instinct of throwing my arms up in front of my head. Its fangs had pierced my skin just as my father's seraph blade disintegrated it.

My father had yelled at me for being so senseless, for forgetting all my training in a moment. I was screaming from the toxins in my system. Unsurprisingly, I collapsed. The next memory I had was of Isabelle leaning over me in the Infirmary, anxiety in her black eyes...

I leant against the wall, shuddering, feeling as if the beasts were converging on me. _Damn you Magnus, _I thought furiously, _Damn you to Hell._

Even if I did somehow make it out of here alive (which I doubted), who knew how many other rooms full of poisonous creatures there were? Sooner or later (I was guessing sooner), I'd be bitten by something with lethal jaws.

* * *

I lifted the box jellyfish into the fishing boat using a net, hyperaware of the damage its 3m-long, trailing tentacles could do. The box jellyfish was renowned for being the most venomous jellyfish in the world. Its transparency camouflaged it from its prey as it hunted, and led to many swimmers being stung by its deadly tentacles. Covering the tentacles were millions of cells called cnidocytes, responsible for injecting the venom into the victim. The pain that results is said to be excruciating, but wouldn't last long; the person could be dead in under three minutes.

The venom was vital to a spell that allowed a warlock to engage in telepathy. It was in high demand because of number of warlocks who were simply curious about it, or those who thought it protect their secrets from Shadowhunters.

I myself had tried it once, and had vowed never to do it again. The intrusiveness of mind-to-mind contact being the principle reason; if one did not guard ones thoughts, they would quickly become known to the other person.

I extracted the toxin quickly, sealing it in an air-tight container. The less time I had to spend with this alien-like creature, the better. My lip curled in distaste at even the sight of it.

Once I was done, I released the jellyfish back into the waters and sent a spark towards the back of the boat that sent it jolting forwards.

I was immensely glad that Alec was still asleep in my bed. He would have a heart attack if he even saw the spider labs, better known as the Arachnid Atrium. As someone who refused to enter a room if he knew there was a spider in it, I didn't think he'd deal well with the mass of arachnids found there. The thought brought a small smile to my face. Heart attack indeed.

* * *

Two black widows and a funnel web spider. And that was only the venomous spiders now crawling over me.

I knew I would have been mortified at the thought of anyone watching me hearing the whimper that left my mouth under normal circumstances, but few times had I been so afraid in my life. Each new addition to the family of spiders now living on my body sent me in to a paralysing flashback. My every breath could be my last, and that terrified me. What if I had been bitten already, and just hadn't realised it yet?

* * *

I frowned at the sky (which was really just a simulated illusion). It was pulsing red. The alarm system had been triggered for the Poison Archives, this huge complex of rooms for all the toxic creatures worldwide. Someone was here that wasn't meant to be.

Belatedly it occurred to me that the sleeping spell I'd used on Alec might not work on a Shadowhunter the same way it would on a Downworlder. He might have woken up already.

The only way to confirm his presence would be to go to the control centre of the Archives. There were cameras there to monitor each room.

Not wanting to waste any time by getting lost in this maze of a place, I created a Portal that took me straight to the control centre. Stepping through, I went to the cameras and scanned them for a familiar face.

"Oh shit," I muttered, finding him at last. This could not end well.

* * *

It moved its twitching legs one by one, climbing my shoulder. All eight of its eyes seemed to be trained on me, entertained by my terror. It wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, the sadistic little bastard that it was. It paused for a moment then extended another of its huge legs, pawing at my neck. I shuddered.

This drove it forward in a rush and mindlessly I struck out at it, sending it spiralling through the air. In that moment, I had forgotten about the other residents of my body. The sudden movement had spooked some of them, and sure enough I had bites on my arms. It wasn't as if I could tell which spiders inflicted it, though; there were so many, most of which I didn't recognise.

Obviously, as an arachnophobe, I didn't spend time researching spiders. Perhaps that was going to come at my cost now. I could only hope the ones who sank their fangs into me were not deadly to humans.

I tried to maintain my stillness again. I felt awful, physically: I was drenched in sweat, I was feverish and I was nauseous. I knew that it probably wasn't the effects of any venom yet, but rather the high stress level I was being kept at, but it didn't stop the panicked thoughts. _How long do I have to live? Will I die in complete agony? What are the first symptoms of a venomous spider bite?_

The room pulsed red. Was it my imagination? Did spider venom induce hallucinations? Or had someone finally noticed I was here. Despite my situation, a little hope surfaced within me. I might actually survive this, I thought, as I slid dazedly to the ground. My eyes closed.

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, decades- no, it must be minutes, I haven't missed a decade- I heard a familiar voice:

"Alec? Can you hear me?" His voice was worried, and I felt his fingers at my neck searching for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Just before I lost consciousness, I muttered three words: "I hate you."

* * *

I awoke to the smell of two-weeks-past-its-sell by-date fish. I gagged, and my eyes shot open. Chairman Meow gave me a disdainful look, almost as if it were me who had the bad breath.

"I'm going to kill your owner," I told him.

The Chairman arched his back, and then jumped off the bed. He seemed to have had enough of me.

I was back in Magnus' room, from where my rather unfortunate day had started. Once again there was no sign of the warlock, although I suspected that had something to do with my last words to him.

Grimacing, I left the warmth of the bed and walked towards the door. "If this is another bloody rainforest," I grated out while yanking the door open.

My sanity thanked the fact the apartment had gone back to normal (well, as normal as Magnus' apartment ever was). The man himself looked up as I walked in, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

"No more rainforests or spiders. I promise." When I glared at him he spoke again, his voice more serious, "I'm sorry, Alec. I honestly did think you were going to be asleep more hours more; I've used that spell on countless other people, and none have woken up that quickly."

"None of those people were Shadowhunters."

"No. No, they weren't. And I should have known better." He looked down. "You know I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you, Alec.

"Which one bit me?" I wasn't quite ready to back down yet.

"A Brazilian Wandering spider. Very deadly, but the anti-venom was easy enough to get."

Another thought occurred to me. "Why was there blood on the sheets? Why did you had to use a sleeping spell?

"You were attacked by a demon when you were coming home. You were injured very badly; it was lucky you remained conscious long enough to tell me what had happened. I came as quickly as possible. You were in a very bad state when I found you; I had to do most of the healing out in the street because I was afraid you'd die from the blood loss. I couldn't finish it out there, though, as I knew I might not have enough energy to fight off the demon if it returned. I carried you back here, and at that point you were slipping into and out of conscious; you were in tremendous pain, so I decided to put a sleeping spell on you." He stopped to collect his thoughts. "And you know the rest. I made a really bad decision, Alec, and I am truly so sorry for what I did. You don't know how scared I was when I found you in the Atrium. I'd already nearly lost you once, just six or seven hours before that, and to think you might die because of one idiotic decision…"

I sighed. I couldn't hold a grudge against someone who clearly felt so terrible about what had happened. I joined him on the sofa, leaning against him.

"I forgive you." I kissed his cheek. "Also, I lied to you."

His relief turned into confusion. "When?"

I smiled. "I told you I hated you. Nothing could be further from the truth."

"I love you too."

_Several weeks later…_

"This is the best way, honey. Trust me."

"I do trust you, but I really, really don't like this idea."

"Just try it. If it doesn't work, we'll stop."

Magnus gave me an encouraging look, and then gently guided my hand towards the infernal beast. I almost drew back, but Magnus coaxed me with a few gentle words.

Trembling, I lifted the tarantula.

"There. That's not so bad, is it?"

I stared at the arachnid ensconced upon my palm. "It's hideous."

"Don't insult her. Don't worry, Matilda, you are the most beauteous lady in this entire area."

I couldn't help but laugh at his antics, and although I still wasn't too fond of Matilda or her many brothers and sisters, I knew this was a fear I could overcome.

**I loved writing this one. Even the research was fun when it consisted of finding out about dangerous creatures and Japanese legends. :)**


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